'I Want to Die'

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by James Altucher: 7
Things I Learned From the First Blogger



One guy I worked
closely with in the Internet boom killed himself about a year ago.
His father had died recently and he was very close to his father.
My friend had a heart condition plus various cancers that kept coming
back. He had been fired from AOL in some sort of scandal, and the
company we had worked together at back in 1999 had gone bankrupt.
He was overweight, had no girlfriend, had a speech impediment, and
he was constantly sweating due to his various illnesses.

I was talking
about him at a dinner with friends. We were all saying what a great
guy he was. Because he truly was a great guy. When you go through
so much sorrow you know that it makes no sense to be mean or cruel
to the people around you. Finally, though, it occurred to all of
my friends that I was the only one at the table who didn’t
know he was dead. “Wait a sec,” said one of the people
at dinner, “you don’t know?”


And the table
went silent. Nobody wanted to say. An awful secret had been served
at the table and I was the only one not feasting on the dish. Instead
someone gave me a URL and I went to it later and it was a tribute
page to my friend. I’ve had 100 breakfasts with the guy and
I didn’t know and it made me wonder what his last thoughts
were. The last time I heard from him he had sent me a random email
in 2005 that said, “James! Is this email address really for
you?” And, true to my form, I
never responded
. I meant to respond. But I put it off. Then
never did.

A few years
ago Dan was telling me about a friend of his who worked at Goldman
Sachs. They grew up together in the banking business. Dan said,
“he was addicted to prostitutes. Almost every night. He was
a good looking guy, made great money, stayed in shape, and every
night would go for an escort service.”

“If he
was a good looking guy why couldn’t he just meet a girl or
many girls, like in a bar, or wherever?” I said.

Dan said, “I
asked him that. He said, ‘it’s the same thing. You take
the girl out to two or three dinners, you wine and dine. And maybe
then you have sex with her. But then she doesn’t leave. This
way, for $500 I can have sex with some of the most beautiful girls
on the planet and then that’s it, move on to the next one.’

“But then
he would miss the emotional stuff.”

“He didn’t
care about that. He just wanted to have sex with a different beautiful
woman every night.”

Dan said, “But
after his last bonus, he left the city and moved to California.
I don’t know what he’s doing now. I think he’s doing
nothing, just living off that last bonus.”

I was trying
to figure out how big his bonus was that he could just live off
of it forever like that.

The other day
Dan told me, “remember that friend of mine I told you about
that was always going out with the prostitutes”


John J called me and gave me the update. He hung himself.”

Nobody wants
to die. But its hard to go from wanting to die to suddenly being
cheered up. If you say, “I want to die” and everyone else
says, “oh, cheer up, there’s so much to live for”
that’s sometimes a hard thing to hear. It’s not like you’re
going to suddenly say, “you know what? You are totally right.
I’m cheered up now!”

Try this instead.
Just think a little deeper. When you get that feeling ask yourself,
“what is it inside of me that really wants to die?”

Do you really
want your heart to stop beating? I hardly ever think of the mechanics
of my heart. Why would I suddenly want it to stop beating? I don’t
even know what side of my chest my heart is on.

the rest of the article

30, 2011

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